God and Wine

I haven't blogged in a while. I suppose it's due to many reasons. First, many of you know that I relocated to Charlotte, North Carolina at the beginning of April. I got the offer of a lifetime to come down here and do full-time ministry, focusing on the fields of spiritual formation and community outreach--which are two of my favorite things in ministry. I left New York after 8 LONG years of hustling and self-discovery, saying "yes" to God and the unknown yet again. For my final sermon in New York, I preached about God's command to varying groups of people in the book of Genesis to "fill the earth" (Gen 1:28, Gen 9:1, Gen 9:7). I  knocked down the Towers of Babel that I'd built over the years and I ventured forth into the mystery.  This journey has been a tumultuous one. It has been one of many ups and downs over the past 18 months. For the most part, I am grateful--grateful for the opportunities that have come my way--for the accolades, for t

In January,  I attended a conference centered on the art and science of preaching. It was an opportunity for me to work on my craft, to listen to other people work out their callings, and to fellowship with my cohort of sisters in ministry that I attended the conference with. Of course, there were opportunities to network with preachers from all walks of life, from varying denominational affiliations, and from regions across the country. Many of them I knew by name through social media or because of the circles that I run in, but most were pleasant strangers that I connected with during curated conversational moments. There were meaningful interactions around racism and microaggressions from the pulpit, the intersectional age/gender gap at this conference, sexism and homophobia in ministry circles, and other fruitful dialectical experiences. When discussing the conference with someone I know well who wasn't in attendance, we talked about the general framework of the event (i.e t

This past December, I sat down with my checking accounts after my rent was paid, and I added up all of the past due medical bills that had been piling up for months (some, for years). I deduced that I had the funds to finally pay off the $500+ of unpaid bills--bills from the colonoscopy I had in 2014 and the biopsies I got done in November (nothing malignant was found). I was so proud of myself for paying off my medical bills at the end of the year. It felt like a tiny weight of debt was lifted from my aching back. In January, however, I got slammed with a new set of unexpected and hefty medical bills and, honestly, my friends, it's cheaper to die. 😶 When you go to the doctor or dentist these days, there is a lot of lack of clarity about how much things cost. I knew I'd have to pay for some of the colonoscopy and x-ray, and I did so up front, but I wasn't expecting the unexpected remainder that my insurance suddenly decided not to cover to slap me across the face

A well-trained dancer knows that when you "pose," you are never really done. You have not completed an action or arrived at a destination. Posing is a continuous action. It is a journey. You stretch and breathe into that thing until it's time to transition to the next "pose." Such are the seasons of life. You will never arrive . Arriving is a journey.  Once you get to a sort of destination, there will be something else to arrive to; that is, if you desire to come alive over and over again. There's nothing like a dancer who emptily sits in a pose. Great dancers know that the more you sit in a position instead of breathing through it, the harder it will be to transition to the next movement. In existential terms, there are no poses . Only movements. Only motion. Only change. So, be a good dancer today.  Breathe through this season.  Grow.  Come alive! Get every bit of energy out through the tips of your fingertips & t

Read Finding Love After Sexual Assault Here _______________________ My brilliant colleague, Danielle Williams Thiam, preached a sermon this fall on the rape of Tamar (2 Samuel 13). In her sermon she pointed out all the ways in which, not just Amnon, but the community and world in which Tamar lived participated in her rape. "Rape is a communal sin," she preached. I honor her words as a sexual assault survivor and as an advocate for holding the collective responsible for the violation of women's bodies, particularly the bodies of black and brown girls. ______________________ For every person who knew that Deacon so-and-so (who was in with the pastor) was touching little girls and turned their heads cuz they didn't want to 'fall out' with the pastor- REPENT . For every person who stood outside a closed door knowing that what was going on behind that door involved an abuse of power that ravaged a female body- REPENT . For every lawyer who kn